by Milly Taiden
“Then when I went to make tea for the day, I found the beaker next to the sink, so I used it instead. I tried to peel the label off, but as you can see, it kept tearing in slivers, so I said forget it.” True enough, it looked like the label had been unsuccessfully picked at from both ends. She pulled a precarious handful of sugar packets from her side pocket and lifted them for Hamel to see.
“I like to use real sugar—” A couple packets came loose and fell through her fingers. She heard a plop and her tea showed a round wave moving outward from the center. When she looked down to see what she dropped, her heart stopped.
“SHIT.” She dumped the beaker upside down on the countertop. Liquid spilled in all directions. She scooped her thumb-sized flash drive from the mess and shook it vigorously while looking in all directions for something to save it. She wiped it on her coat then ran for the ladies’ room. Inside, her hand slammed on the button to the blow dryer. “Please, please, please.”
Everything pertaining to the virus was on that drive. A lot was on her laptop, but the final solution for the serum was on the flash. Fortunately, this wasn’t a disaster to end all disasters or her career. Her eidetic memory could re-create the serum, if needed. But some of the paperwork Mr. Kintu spoke about needing to prove discovery was gone.
She heard a knock on the bathroom door. “Melinda,” a deep voice said, “everything okay?”
“Yeah, Hamel, sorry. I dropped my flash drive into my tea.” She greeted him at the door and he held it open for her to exit. “It’s not too big of a deal. I’ll plug it in to see if it will work.” Not likely.
At her laptop, the machine recognized the drive, but nothing showed in the directory for files. She pulled the piece out and shoved it into her pocket. Maybe one of the computer gurus could get something out of it.
She glanced at her watch. Thank god it was time for lunch. “Do you have plans for lunch? I bring mine and sit in the lunchroom with the others. You’re welcome to join us.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “Thank you, but I have plans with Mr. Kintu. I may not see you again until tomorrow.”
She was surprised how disappointed she was at the possibility of not seeing him later. Damn, she was pathetic. No, not pathetic, just highly interested in a new man who made her girl parts take notice. Okay, yeah, pathetic. She knew better than that. Hamel was here for work. Not like he was going to up and offer to make all her sexual daydreams come true. She spent the rest of day with the techy guys trying to get data off her flash.
Late in the afternoon, she had a headache and was ready to toss her flash and laptop from the roof of the building. Giving it a good heave might make her feel better, but wouldn’t improve the situation any.
She put the remainder of her second beaker of tea in her lab’s fridge in front of several beakers, then locked it. She gathered her laptop and useless thumb drive and locked them in a cabinet along with anything else that could walk off. Theft wasn’t a problem, but she hated to dangle an irresistible opportunity.
As soon as she stepped out of the building, she felt eyes on her. She looked around, but everything seemed as it always did. She hurried to her car and headed home.
CHAPTER 5
Stripped of her work clothes and shoes, Melinda relaxed into the hammock chair strung up on her balcony overlooking Lake Victoria. The lake was nearly as big as one of the Great Lakes in the U.S., so with no land to see on the other side, it seemed like she was on the ocean. A wooded area that had grown a bit too wild separated her home from the narrow strip of sand and mud—more mud than sand—that was her personal beach.
Glass of Moscato in hand, she let out a sigh. Good wine was not easy to come by in Uganda. And when she could find it, paying out the nose was normal. But if she ever needed wine to wind down, it was tonight after her crazy day. The oddest part being Hamel showing up out of the blue.
She found it hard to push the man from her mind. It had been a while since she’d seen someone from the States. After working, talking, and living with the native people for two years, it was weird.
But she’d forgive him that if she could just get a peek at the body under the clothes. She knew he had to be ripped. Her hormones decided to go along with her thinking. The way he filled out his shirt and the lab coat. The way he moved; it was like he glided across the floor. Like a cat, steady and sure after its prey.
Tingles of pleasure gave her a full-body shudder. A growl came from somewhere in the woods. It was faint, which was good. She did not like the idea of being dinner for a huge creature. She’d been told stories by those she worked with about monster everything in Africa: monster snakes, bugs, cats, reptiles, fish. It was like Texas; everything was bigger.
The sunset was bloodred tonight. Crimson smeared from one side to the other. The lake mirrored the heavens, turning the rolling waves into a sea of blood. Which brought Hamel back into her mind, of course. Because, why the fuck not? The man was hot and she hadn’t gotten laid in more time than she cared to remember.
He needed a refresher in his biological studies, though. She felt like he had no clue what she was talking about in the lab today. Typical for the American government. Those not qualified, but who have plenty of money, lead those who work their tails off to make a living. It’s all the politics she ran from. Sorta.
A little piece of hurt pinged her heart. She didn’t want to think about him tonight, or any night, for that matter. After two years, her heart and pride were still bruised. Still tender to the touch.
Like Hamel, Kenneth had shown up from out of the blue and attached himself to her. She was just beginning her career with the CDC, and her life was in a huge upheaval with finding a place to live, getting her belongings there, selling her old house, and starting a new job with high expectations. So when he stepped in to help her get settled, she didn’t ask questions.
Kenneth was a recent grad, like her, and working in her area of study. Again, when he suggested they work together, she never asked questions. Kenneth made her feel pretty, feel worthy of love, which was something she didn’t get on the home front. He made her laugh, he watched chick flicks with her, and he was cute. Too cute for someone like her. But she never questioned, until it was too late.
She and Kenneth had been working on a vaccine to develop a meningococcal conjugate vaccine as a tool for eliminating epidemic meningitis as a public health problem in sub-Saharan Africa. Early on, Melinda made a discovery that led directly to a cure. When they were ready to show their bosses what they found, Kenneth set her up for having little part of the find. He took all the credit.
She pleaded her case, explaining the truth. But in the end, it came down to he said, she said. And the she said side wasn’t picked to win. She’d learned a lot with that experience, mainly that people didn’t do anything without motive. That motive usually involved them winning something and her losing. Nobody had your best interest in mind. Well, maybe parents, but the point was she couldn’t trust anybody for anything. Only herself.
Shitty backstabbing wasn’t as much of a problem in Uganda. People here were honest and usually willing to help. She knew her neighbors, and they were all nice.
Slowly swaying in the hammock chair, wineglass in hand. Just the light crash of waves on the shore, the tweet of a passing songbird. Her eyes growing heavier and heavier.
Then exactly twenty minutes after she snuggled in, her phone went berserk with “WARNING. WARNING.” The deep voice repeated to evacuate immediately. A scratchy horn blasted its shriek along with the high-pitched sirens associated with fire engines.
It scared the living shit out of her.
She scrambled forward in her hammock chair. In her haste and pumping adrenaline, she leaned too far to the side, causing the rope-constructed seat to dump her on the spot. Still holding the wineglass in one hand, she only had one way to catch herself.
Her free hand slammed on the edge of the side
table, more specifically, on a tray overhanging the edge, loaded with crackers, sliced fruit, the bottle of Moscato, and of course, her phone. She watched as the food and drink launched into the air and sailed over the balcony’s rail.
She lay on her back staring at the first stars appearing for the night. Goddammit, motherfucking son of a bitch with a corncob up her ass. Why did this kind of shit happen to her all the time? First she dropped her flash drive in her tea. Now, an expensive bottle—with its cap on, thank god—lay somewhere in the woods. Her phone had stopped roaring, at least. Just in time so she wouldn’t be able to find it in the dark. Somebody above must hate her.
With a groan, she pulled herself up from the floor. Then she realized she still held her glass, wine still in it! Ha. Maybe that somebody above really did like her. She tipped her head back to chug the remaining alcohol and headed toward the kitchen.
With her first step, her pinky toe smashed into the out-of-position table leg, sending a sharp stab of pain through her foot. Without thinking, she lifted her knee, grabbing at the injury, fingers frantically rubbing the toe to stop the sting. Shifting her weight, she hopped around on the other leg, trying to remain upright. Dammit! Why did the little things hurt so damn much?
But she still had her pristine wineglass. She felt like a winner. Nobody could crush her spirit. Go me!
She limped to the kitchen to take out the food from the oven for dinner—the whole reason this fiasco happened. She forgot to set an alarm last time and fell asleep to wake up to a home filled with burnt-smelling smoke and an inedible chicken. Dinner could cool while she hunted for her phone and wine. At the back door, she slipped on her flip-flops and stomped down the back stairs to the woods. She looked up at her balcony and eyeballed where her stuff should’ve landed.
On hands and knees, she brushed at dead leaves and vines. This sucked. If she had to, she’d borrow a phone from someone and dial her number. Problem was none of her neighbors had phones. Yes, the gods that be hated her. Noises came from the dark ahead.
It was amazing how different the woods sounded from the safety of her balcony. Off to the side, something scuffled, stepping on brittle leaves. She stopped. Oh, no, no, no! Shit. It had to be a big animal or human to crunch leaves. Climbing to her feet, she spotted the wine bottle and hurried to scoop it up.
Movement close to the ground caught her eye. It looked like a pile of material. When she got close enough, she toed the dark bundle. The white tag on a black T-shirt fluttered in the breeze. That’s what got her attention. She lifted the shirt and realized this was an entire outfit, shoes included, in black. What the hell?
Well, shit. Looked like they had another naked person running around. Same thing happened last year at this time. Some older kids thought it’d be fun to skinny-dip in the lake. Seemed they were so drunk, they couldn’t remember where they stripped and wandered around the woods until someone called the authorities. But this was rather far from the beach.
Another crinkling of leaves came farther to the side. She wrapped her hand around the neck of the bottle. “Hey, whoever you are, you need to put your clothes on and get out of here. This is private property.” Sorta. She got no reply back. “Hey. Did you hear me?”
Maybe she could scare him away. Eh, that was a dumb idea. It wasn’t like she was the Bionic Woman and could kick his ass if he didn’t run. She turned and retraced her steps.
The sound of sirens and trumpet blasts led her to her phone. It was buried under leaves she pushed to the side. She turned off the repeat alarm option so it would stop going off now that she didn’t need it. After she climbed the stairs, she paused and looked over her shoulder.
On top of the neighbor’s concrete wall stood a monstrous black cat. Shit, it could’ve been a lion as far as she knew. The thick fur swallowed the moonlight, not letting her see many details, only a silhouette. The sight took her breath away. So majestic, so confident, so strong.
She felt like it was looking directly at her, drilling into her, searching for her soul to see if she was worthy. She wasn’t. No question about it. The cat turned and jumped down on the other side of the wall. She really hoped the naked guy wasn’t the cat’s dinner. Eww. Gross thought.
Hurrying inside, she shut and locked the door.
CHAPTER 6
Fuck. That was close. Hamel in his jaguar form slinked through the growing darkness toward the wooded area outside Melinda’s bungalow.
He needed to pay more attention instead of staring at her and daydreaming of their first night together. But fuck. She was his mate. It took extreme willpower to keep from going into her home and claiming her there and then. His cat liked that idea. Let’s go up the stairs.
Not happening, fur ball. Respect. A hole torn in a long piece of aluminum siding offered the perfect opportunity to get to the tree side of the fence. His cat stepped through, careful not to get cut on sharp edges.
He didn’t smell her nearby, so he knew it was safe to shift and redress. He wondered if he should move to a different location. No, the position he had was strategically the best place to watch her house. For his mate, only the best of everything would be acceptable.
Ah, fuck. His mate. His mom always said he’d never know the time or place he’d meet his other half. He didn’t have to worry about that now. The thought of mating and having a family sent an electric thrill through him. That was every shifter’s dream. So many were never that lucky and ended up alone or marrying a non-mate.
He wondered if the boss knew his mate was here and that was why he was sent. How could he? Two of the ALFA team were on assignment undercover, and the third was recovering from a battle with a wolf pack. The whole pack had turned against him. Damn, that guy was a man’s man and a shifter’s shifter. He was the Alpha League Federal Agency’s best.
So Hamel was the only soldier available. It had to be fate. Did he really believe that? During his life, he’d had problems accepting things he couldn’t touch, couldn’t verify with his own eyes. Fates, ghosts, gods, demons, magic. They were all the same. No solid evidence of their existence. He’d probably doubt the existence of shifters if he wasn’t one.
Reaching the tree he had parked himself under, he looked into the high branches. Yup, his backpack was still there, hanging on a limb. He’d had no choice but to heave it somewhere Melinda wouldn’t see it. Earlier, he saw the wine bottle fly over the balcony railing and wondered what she was doing. He about shit when she walked out her back door.
His best option was to strip and shift. If she saw any of the human side, she’d be wary and maybe overly suspicious.
Going on what he’d learned today, he was a bit confused about this whole virus thing. He understood what could happen if something like the bubonic plague was released. But this virus Melinda was working with didn’t make people sick. It evolved their brains to another level, and only the children, at that. Who would find it beneficial to have a world of clairvoyant kids?
Well, they’d have tremendous military use for locating hidden bunkers, buried ammo stashes, and current hideouts for the bad guys. If that’s how it worked. He wasn’t sure. Again, he couldn’t feel it or see it . . .
How was he going to explain shifters to her? He was sure her brain was even more logical than his. He might have time to build a relationship if he could get her a step up from just tolerating him. He didn’t like the idea of simply taking her with him when it was time to go. She might have something to say about that.
He’d learned from others’ mistakes, and it was putting it mildly to call it a mistake when his uncle thought he could pull a caveman when he met his own mate. Holy shit, he’d never witnessed anything so deadly and funny at the same time.
They’d met in the grocery store, of all places. She was buying snapper at the meat counter, and Hamel and his uncle were sent to pick up fresh steaks for dinner. After his uncle scented her, you couldn’t pull him away with a crowbar. Ha
mel followed at a distance waiting for the shit to hit the fan. He knew it would. His uncle was one of those people who attracted bad luck like a magnet. If something could go wrong, it would.
So on that day at the grocer’s market, he learned to never assume his mate would welcome him with open arms. Never think his little lady couldn’t kick his ass and toss him onto the pie and cake display, thanks to her black belt in martial arts. And never, ever, get up in her face and tell her what she must do. That was the quickest means of getting your balls shoved up your throat.
But in the end, it had all worked out. They were as perfect for each other as destiny had planned. After a few times of him landing flat on his back for trying to boss her around, he came to the conclusion that offering options and letting her decide would keep his body in one piece much longer.
Now Hamel needed to come up with solutions to negate all the things she’d throw at him to keep from loving him—while watching out for bad guys, keeping his cover solid by not sounding like an idiot in the lab, and forcing his animal to wait until she said yes. That required multitasking. Men weren’t known to be good at that kind of stuff. Just give them a spear and they’d come back with supper.
There was no way this would end well.
CHAPTER 7
Melinda knew right away she had to be dreaming. She’d experienced this before: being cognizant in the dream, but unable to do anything about it. What clue did she have for that decision? First, she was in the swimsuit on this year’s Sports Illustrated swimwear cover. That would never happen. She was happily built for a tankini with a skirt covering her cute ass.
Second, she stood in sugar-soft white sand outside her place on the lake. Last she’d looked at the beach, though, moss had covered the rocks and a couple dead fish floated in the waves, belly up.
